


Zimbits Ficlets, Drabbles, and Other Short Works

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Drabbles, Explicit Rating to Come, F/M, Ficlets, Fourth of July in Madison, Jack and Bitty in love, M/M, Short fics and one shots, Suzanne finds out, There is tension over the word pecan, YouTuber BItty, alicia adores her son-in-law, alternate meet cute, bonding with the in-laws, day-to-day life, holsom, jack and bitty get a cat, outsider pov, ranskov, shitty x lardo, silliness, wedding vows, zimbits future fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 15,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: A collection of OMGCP ficlets shared on Tumblr and here. Mainly Zimbits but other pairings will be thrown in.  Love, slice of life, smoochy times and more...





	1. A Triptych of Teeny Weeny Zimbits Future Fics

“What about this one?” Alicia asked as she held up a red DVF wrap dress to her body.

Bitty studied her, then shook his head. 

“I like the green better.”

She smiled and nodded in agreement, “You are so right, sweetheart.”

“Great! Now are we ready for that glass of wine you’ve been promising all afternoon?”

Alicia nodded and wrapped her arm around her son-in-law’s as they walked toward the register. “God, yes. And some dessert?”

“You know it, sister.”

**+**

“That’s quite a pickle you’ve gotten yourself into, Jack,” Coach said as the two looked at Jack’s golf ball stubbornly settled into the sand trap.

“ _Crisse._ ”

“Exactly, son. That bunker’s got your ball, but good.”

Jack studied the ball carefully then looked at Coach who put his hand on Jack’s shoulder and said, “Remember, if you hit the sand too early, it’ll dig instead of skip.”

Jack nodded and took a swing, as Coach smiled in approval.

“That’s it. That’s it right there!”

**+**

Alicia, Bob, Coach and Suzanne had finally left after spending a week with Jack and Bitty, and while they were ecstatic to have their parents visiting, they were now exhausted and happy to be alone.

“Did you put the chicken in the fridge?”

“Shit, I forgot.”

“Jack…”

“But I’m already in bed, Bits.”

“So you’re just gonna let it spoil?”

“I’m tired,” Jack groaned and muttered his protests as he buried his head into his husband’s neck.

“No sir! Cuddling me isn’t going to work. Go downstairs. Go on – I’m not going to do it.”

Jack nibbled Bitty’s neck, as Bitty squealed.

“Jack Laurent Bittle-Zimmermann, get your glorious ass downstairs and put the damn chicken away.”

“Fine,” Jack said as he rose from the bed and began to pout.

“Oh, and Jack?”

“Yeah?” Jack asked as he stood by the door frame.

“Catch!”

Jack suddenly reached out and caught what he then realized were Bitty’s underwear. He laughed and swung them around his head before he flung them back toward Bitty. 

“And hurry back!” Bitty called out.

Jack happily ran downstairs to their kitchen to put the leftover chicken away, then joined his naked husband waiting in their bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something I threw up over on my [Tumblr](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/post/161477346649/a-triptych-of-teeny-weeny-zimbits-future-fics).
> 
> All _Check, Please! _characters by the amazing Ngozi.__
> 
> __Stop by and say hi!_ _


	2. Overheard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suzanne overhears something she shouldn't have, but is so glad she did. Takes place over the Madison Fourth of July weekend.

The garage. Yes! Suzanne finally remembered where she put the citronella candles. The garage. After that, she’d be all set for the guests who would be arriving in an hour. She closed the kitchen sink cabinet and headed toward the garage. 

As she approached the back screen door, she heard hushed voices coming from the yard. 

It must be Jack and Dicky, she thought with a smile and then stopped dead in her tracks when she realized what she was hearing.

“I just… I just want you to hold me, and -- and never let me go.”

Suzanne’s eyes grew wide as she heard Dicky’s voice. Oh sweet Mary! No, Dicky. Don’t do it! Suzanne had suspected Dicky was carrying a torch for Jack. Who wouldn’t? And she wanted to talk to Dicky about it for so long, but then that would mean she’d have to tell Dicky she knew he was gay. Or suspected. But every magazine article she’d read said to wait for your child to approach you. To tell you. So, she waited. And waited, and waited. And now her poor boy was about to have his heart broken.

“Never. I’ll never let you go.”

Wait… hold on, that was Jack’s voice. _He’ll_ never let him go? What? Suzanne tiptoed closer to the window and peered out. Jack and Bitty were on the swing, which sat alongside the house.

She saw Jack reach out and place his hand on top of Dicky’s. The old swing creaked slowly.

“It’s killing me not being able to just kiss you and hold you tight, every time you’re near me.”

Dicky smiled and looked down at their hands.

“I know. Me too, honey. Every time I see you walk into a room, I just want to jump into your arms. I’ve missed you so much.”

Was this real? Her son and Bad Bob Zimmermann’s son were dating? How long had this been going on? Who pursued whom? Jack wasn’t straight? Her son -- her _baby_ \-- and Jack Zimmermann? And clearly, they were into each other. 

“Me too, Bits. Me too. Thank god for the calls and Skype, but nothing beats this,” Jack said as he stroked Bitty’s forearm.

Suzanne wasn’t sure when she had stopped breathing, but her brain kickstarted itself and forced her to take a deep, deep breath. Bits. He called Dicky "Bits." Oh, that’s sweet. His little Bits. Suzanne pushed in a bit closer; the gauzy curtains stroked her face as they billowed in and out.

“I wish you could come back home with me. Now. This weekend.”

“Sweetheart, you know I want that more than anything but I have camp and then... what would I tell my parents?”

Suzanne, placed her hand over chest and inhaled.

“That I love you. That I want to be with you… always.”

“You… you love me?” Dicky asked wide eyed.

Jack looked adoringly into Dicky’s eyes, and nodded. 

“I’ve been wanting to say that for weeks now, Bits, but it just didn’t seem right to do it over Skype.”

“Jack?”

“Yes,” Jack said as he pulled in closer.

“I love you, too,” Dicky said softly. “So much.”

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” Jack said leaning in just slightly.

“No… someone might see.”

Suzanne frowned. Oh, these poor boys. Bless their hearts, she wished she could tell them it was okay, but she supposed she was back to the waiting game.

“I guess I’ll have to wait till tonight,” Jack said with a smirk.

Dicky laughed, and playfully slapped Jack on the chest.

“And could you be a little more quiet this time? I swear, you almost woke up the entire house last night sneaking into my room. Lord!”

Suzanne frowned. Okay, what‽ Love was sweet and all, but there would be no hanky panky in her house. No sir.

“Boys!” she called out and watched Jack and Dicky jump apart. Bless. Their. Hearts. 

“Can you bring in the citronella candles that are on the shelf next to the window in the garage? And then I need some help with a couple things.”

“Yes, mama!” Dicky replied flustered as he stood. 

Jack quickly ran his hand down Dicky’s back. Dicky turned and smiled at Jack who mouthed _I love you_. Dicky threw a kiss to Jack then pulled him out of the swing and led him toward the garage.

Suzanne shook her head and smiled, in spite of herself. Despite the nighttime shenanigans, she was thrilled for Dicky.

Her son had found love, and clearly it had found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [LastKnownWriter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lastknownwriter/pseuds/lastknownwriter). ❤


	3. No Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty and Tater go off on a little adventure. Jack is prepared.

“Hey, Jack! Bitty is here,” Snowy called out as Bitty entered the Falconers’ lounge.

“Hi, Snowy. Uh… actually, I’m here for Tater.”

“B!” a booming voice called out from behind them. “Are you ready?”

Bitty smiled broadly, “Sure ‘nough. Do you have everything I told you to pack?”

“Yeah, sunscreen, snacks for drive, water, clothes…”

Jack appeared behind them both, “So you two all set?”

Tater nodded with excitement, “Is going to be ‘swawesome. You sure you not coming with us, Zimmboni?”

Jack laughed and shook his head, “No, I’m fine. That’s really not my thing, but I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

Bitty leaned in to kiss Jack and said, “All right, mister. We’ll text you!”

“I’m sure you will,” Jack said.

“Bye guys,” Tater said as he flung his backpack over his shoulder and left the lounge with his arm around Bitty's shoulder.

“And try to stay out of trouble!” Jack called out behind them.

“No promises,” they replied simultaneously as Jack laughed and shook his head.

Snowy stood next to Jack and said, “That looks like trouble waiting to happen.”

“Definitely,” Jack replied.

“So what’s that all about? Where are they off to?”

“Six Flags. Tater’s never been on a rollercoaster.”

“Just the two of them, running around Massachusetts causing trouble?”

“Just the two of them.”

“Yeah, I’d make sure your phone was on and the ringer set to max volume.”

Jack nodded, “Oh, no doubt.”


	4. Good Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tries to pay Bitty a compliment -- but his brain and libido get in the way.

The assist Bittle made really was gorgeous. 

Jack had exited Hockey Robot Mode just long enough to see and appreciate it. He smiled, then immediately returned to the game as the swish, swish, swish of his blades on the ice got him back into the groove.

Afterward, with a sweet 4-0 win over Colgate, Jack promised himself he’d say something to Bitty about it. He was the captain, after all.

Would he go with “Bits, you’ve grown so much as a player! Keep going at it.”

Or maybe, “You’re a great asset to my line, and the team.”

Would, “That play was a beaut, Bitty!” be too forward?

Bitty walked by, fresh from the shower with a towel slung low on his hips. Jack could smell his soap, and practically feel the warmth radiating off his body. 

Jack’s thoughts instantly disintegrated as he sat at the bench, fumbling with his sock, trying to look casual; trying not to stare at Bitty’s damp chest, at the way his wet hair curled against his forehead, and the droplets that ran down his neck and the slope of his back, and _Crisse_ … 

Wait? What was he going to say again? 

That every moment they are near each other, Jack just wants to reach out and pull Bitty into his body? That he wonders what Bitty tastes like first thing in the morning when the vestiges of sleep still cling to his beautiful face? That he wants to spend an entire day in bed with him feeding him pie, and plying him with soft wet kisses? That he can only imagine what the sounds of Bitty’s quiet laughter and sighs in his ear must sound like.

Bitty sits on the bench and runs his fingers through his wet hair, closing his eyes in the process. 

At that point, all Jack can come up with is, “Good pass, Bittle.”

“Oh. Thanks, Jack."


	5. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traffic? What traffic? Get a room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating goes up to Mature-ish? (Yeah, it'll get to Explicit soon, ya heathens!)

“There’s construction on Empire, so maybe take Snow?” 

“Thanks, Bits.”

Jack and Bitty drove to their apartment happily chatting about how their day went. Jack enjoyed the evenings when he was done at the arena early and could pick up Bitty at the bakery.

“The chapter on picking the best fruit is almost exactly how I want it. Just a few more tweaks, I think. Sharyn said she agrees and figures we’re almost there, too.” 

Bitty received the latest draft of his cookbook from his editor, and Jack couldn’t be prouder.

“That’s great, Bits. I know how nervous you’ve been about that chapter,” Jack said as he merged lanes.

Bitty smiled and reached out to stroke Jack’s face which still sported its post-season beard. Bitty loved how rugged Jack looked with his scruff. 

Jack smiled and leaned into Bitty’s caress as he drove, then turned his head slightly and kissed Bitty’s fingers. He continued looking at the road, humming to the song on the radio, and licked his lips. 

The effect this seemingly sweet gesture had on Bitty, however, was unintended as Bitty’s breath hitched, caught by an intense sudden wave of desire.

Bitty watched how Jack’s tongue had darted in and out, how his throat bobbed as he swallowed. He let his gaze travel down Jack’s jaw, along his neck, his chest, his waist, and then finally further below…

“What? What is it?” Jack said as he glanced at Bitty.

Bitty exhaled shakily and said, “You need to get us home right away, baby.”

“Why?” Jack asked with concern.

Bitty leaned in toward Jack and huskily said, “Because you are fucking gorgeous and I want to feel that jawline in between in thighs, and then squirm from your beard burn all day tomorrow.”

Jack unexpectedly swerved the SUV.

“Ten minutes? Is ten minutes good?”

Bitty nipped at Jack’s jaw and stroked his leg causing him to grip the steering wheel, and replied, “Make it eight.”

“We’ll be there in seven.”


	6. Two Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this [OMGCP post](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/162093467967): The drinks at the Falcs Family BBQ were very strong and there are so many people who need to know about Eric Richard Bittle.

Snowy subtly shook his head, and tried to catch Guy’s eye but it was too late.

“What’s up?” he said as he grabbed his beer and sat next to Jack.

“Oh, I was just showing everyone Bittle’s clutch shot from his last game…” Jack shoved his phone into Guy’s hand, as Snowy smirked and slapped Guy on the back.

“Come on, Guy. Sit and stay a while,” Snowy said with a grin.

**+**

“I wouldn’t go over there if I were you,” Marty said.

“Why?” George asked with a frown.

Marty and Thirdy answered simultaneously, “He’s on a Bitty roll.”

George stopped, turned around and walked the other way. 

She could hear Jack in the background, “I keep telling him to try out for one of those baking TV shows, eh?”

**+**

Gabby could only hold her smile for so long, and she had been nodding for five minutes straight.

“So I see these pointy little ears poking out from under his pillow, and it’s his stuffed rabbit!” Jack said with glee. “And it turns out his name is Señor Bun!”

“How cute,” she said. 

It’s not that she didn’t enjoy hearing about Bitty -- or didn’t think seeing Jack desperately in love was the sweetest thing ever, but damn it, she just really had to pee.

“I think I hear Owen calling me. I’ll be right back, Jack!”

“Sure! Then I can tell you about Bun’s backstory.”

**+**

“And he loves baking so many pies. Do you like pie?” Jack asked Thirdy’s youngest daughter.

“I love cherry!” Michelle answered. “I love it so much, but I still don’t love it as much as you love your boyfriend.”

Jack stopped talking and looked at Michelle. He could feel his ears burn.

“Oh.”

“Do you want to make a balloon animal with me?” Michelle asked as she thrust two balloons in Jack’s hand.

“Euh, sure.”

“Good. You can give it to your boyfriend. I’ll show you how to make a doggie.”

Jack smiled and happily began blowing his balloon, then continued, “He also makes blueberry muffins, and…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loves Jack and Bitty, but you know how it can be sometimes with couples that won't stop talking about each other. :D


	7. How the Wheel Goes 'Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Coach bond over the most unexpected thing.

It had been a little awkward the first time Jack and Bitty returned to Madison after they came out to Bitty’s parents, and Jack was slowly working his way toward a good relationship with Coach. Bitty sat at the edge of the bed watching, as Jack unpacked his suitcase in the guest room.

“Honey, he’ll love you like a son soon enough,” Bitty said.

“I don’t know about that. Liking me is more than enough for now, Bits,” Jack said as he put his t-shirts in the dresser.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” Bitty said as he stood up and pressed a kiss onto Jack’s cheek. 

It wasn’t that Coach didn’t approve of Jack -- or his relationship with his Bitty -- it was just that Coach wasn’t exactly the most gregarious person. And Jack’s conversational skills weren’t Grade A either. It took both of them a million years to warm up to people. So Coach and Jack more often than not found themselves surrounded by uncomfortable silences and weird pauses.

One morning, while Bitty still slept and Suzanne was in the shower, Jack went downstairs and realized he was alone in the kitchen with Coach. He nodded at Jack, as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Help yourself,” Coach said as he motioned to the coffee pot, and then walked over to turn on the radio.

“Thank you,” Jack said and poured himself a cup, thankful for the radio cutting through the would-be painful silence. He looked at the mug as he brought it to his lips. _World’s Best Mom_ it read. Jack smirked.

“Junior got that mug for Suze when he was nine. He paid for it with his dog walking money. That boy was so proud.”

Jack smiled picturing a tiny Bitty confidently walking a giant St. Bernard or German Shepherd through his neighborhood.

“He’s always been hardworking, eh?”

“That he has. That he has.”

The two sat not knowing what to say next. 

Coach looked at the man sitting across from him. He had said he loved Junior. _Love_. This millionaire athlete who could probably have anyone he wanted, wanted his Junior. Was in love with Junior. And Junior loved him. So Coach knew he had to make an effort, for it was clear Jack Zimmermann was here to stay. 

Still… what the hell could he talk to this boy about? Football? No, not really? Movies? Who knew what kind of movies Jack Zimmermann would be into. Coach scrubbed his face, and grunted in agreement when Jack complimented the coffee.

“Dark roast?” he asked.

“It’s from Costa Rica,” Coach replied.

“They make good coffee.”

“Yep… they sure do.”

Jack sighed and bit his lower lip, trying to subtly glance at the clock on the wall hoping Bitty would wake soon.

Just then some familiar opening chords came through the radio.

“This is a good song,” Jack said.

“You like this song?” Coach asked.

Jack laughed. “I’m surprised Bitty hasn’t complained about my musical taste yet. Everyone at the Haus made fun of my Dad Rock.”

Coach smiled. “Dad Rock? Hell, Cream is one of the greatest bands ever.”

Jack smiled, “One of the best!”

“Gotta love Clapton,” Coach said as he got up and pulled two plates from the cupboard, then placed a basket of muffins in front of Jack.

Jack took one and began to sing softly, “Thinkin' 'bout the times you drove in my car. Thinkin' that I might have drove you too far…”

Coach nodded and joined in.

“And I'm thinkin' 'bout the love that you laid on my table.”

“I told you not to wander 'round in the dark. I told you 'bout the swans, that they live in the park.”

Bitty walked down the stairs, and as he approached the kitchen, he wasn’t sure exactly that he was hearing what he was hearing. Jack and his father were... _singing_? He paused at the bottom of the stairs.

“Then I told you 'bout our kid now he's married to Mabel,” Coach sang.

Jack laughed, “Mabel, huh? That line always cracks me up.”

Coach smirked and gently swayed his head as the two listened to the song quietly. 

Bitty then stumbled into the kitchen just as they in the middle of a chorus of, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“What’s going on here?” Bitty asked as he stood in the kitchen doorway, hands playfully placed on his hips.

Coach got up and slapped Jack on the back.

“Just spending time with your boy, Junior. Turns out, he’s a Clapton man.”

“Huh?” Bitty asked.

Jack rose from the table, handed Bitty his coffee mug, and kissed his forehead.

“Morning, Bits.” 

Bitty took the mug, and stared at his boyfriend and his father for a moment, then asked, “Are you two punking me?”

“Junior, settle down. Have a seat son, and drink your coffee.”

Bitty sat at the table, as Coach slid the basket of muffins over.

“Do you know where the title for the song came from?” Jack asked.

“No, tell me.”

Bitty watched as the two men he loved most in the entire world began connecting over music, of all things. He smiled as he ate his muffin quietly, and thanked whatever rock gods happened to be watching over them that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny little something for [DisraeliGears](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DisraeliGears/pseuds/DisraeliGears) who adores Eric Clapton. _**HUGS!**_
> 
> The song in the fic is [Badge](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gSpW6MePb10) by Cream.


	8. Eight Hundred

They were worried about how their fathers would get along. Sure, Bad Bob was gregarious and outgoing as the day was long – but Coach… well Coach was _not_. Still, Jack and Bitty hoped for the best. And as they all sat down at the picnic table on their deck, Bitty reached out for Jack’s hand and whispered, “Here goes.”

“Propane is fine, I suppose…but I prefer charcoal.”

“Coach is a charcoal purist,” Bitty said with a small laugh.

Bob looked over at him and said, “We’ve always used propane in our house.”

Bitty swallowed and looked over at Jack as Coach said, “I bet you have… I bet you have.”

Alicia and Suzanne were inside chatting it up, preparing side dishes and getting along as though they had been lifelong friends. Outside, Bitty and Jack felt Coach and Bob’s friendship was DOA.

Jack flipped over the porterhouse on the grill and watched it sizzle. It was more entertaining than the silent shit show taking place behind him.

Bitty ran over to the grill and said, ‘You can’t hide here forever, mister. I’m not going down with that ship alone, Zimmermann.”

Jack said, “Why aren’t they talking? It’s like they’re not even trying!”

Bitty sighed then said, “All right. I didn’t want to do this – but those two left me no choice.”

Bitty ran inside, as Jack looked on wondering what he was up to.

“Uh… steaks should be done soon,” Jack called out. Bob and Coach nodded.

A few minutes later, Bitty returned with four glass tumblers and a bottle of Balvenie Scotch.

“Mama and Alicia are almost done, so I figured we could have a little apéritif before dinner is ready.”

Jack gave the bottle a double take, then looked at Bitty. The Scotch had been a gift to Jack from an agent trying to woo him. 

“Balvenie. Nice, Junior,” Coach said as he looked at the bottle and whistled.

“Absolutely! 30 years old, very nice,” Bob said as he cracked open the seal.

Jack didn’t drink but he knew what that bottle was worth. He had kept it in the cupboard, and had forgotten about it for the most part.

“Bits,” he said under his breath, “That an $800 bottle of Scotch.”

Bitty’s eyes grew wide, and whispered out of the side of his mouth, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

And so, Jack and Bitty watched as their fathers started throwing back the Scotch like it was water.

By the time Alicia and Suzanne came out with salads, pastas, and various desserts, the bottle of Balvenie was almost gone and Bob and Coach were hammered – hammered as all hell, wasted like you would not believe… and their children were mortified.

“Maybe we should have made them eat something first,” Bitty said.

“You think?!” Jack replied.

“So– so then, what does he do? He takes a SHIT in the Stanley Cup!”

Coach roared and slapped Bob on the back, sending the forkful of pasta salad he was about to put in his mouth flying across the table.

“Coach… um… can I get you some water?” Bitty asked.

“Water?” Coach drained his glass and said, “Sure thing, Junior. Just bring it to me frozen and in cubes,” he said shaking his glass toward Bitty.

“Oh, my,” Suzanne said and she looked at Alicia who exhaled and raised an eyebrow at Bob.

Bob looked at her and guffawed. “Rich, I’m getting The Eyebrow!”

“You’re in trouble now, Bobbo!”

The two men began to laugh again, falling into each other as Jack and Bitty looked at one another almost regretting this dinner.

Two hours later, they were faced with the task of figuring out what to do with their fathers.

“Well, I can’t very well take him to the hotel looking like this,” Suzanne said as she poked at Coach with her foot.

Both Coach and Bob were sound asleep on the couch. Jack stood looking at them with arms folded across his chest, while Bitty clutched at his arm with his mouth hanging slightly open.

“Did I mention it was a bottle of $800 scotch?”

“Sweet pea? Zip it!” Bitty said as he huffed, then walked to the bedroom and returned with two thin blankets.

“I suppose we can just leave them there,” Alicia said. “It would serve them right.”

Bitty covered his father and (soon-to-be) father-in-law with a blanket, while Jack leaned down and took off their shoes.

Then all four stood and watched them for a moment.

“I guess it could have gone worse,” Bitty finally said.

Alicia, Suzanne, and Jack both turned to look at Bitty.

“I’m just saying! I think they like each other now, so that’s something, right?”

Everyone nodded and began to walk toward the kitchen.

“Pie?” Suzanne asked, as Alicia put on some coffee. Lord knows they’d be needing a lot of it, soon.


	9. Foreheads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Tumblr Prompt: "Zimbits with forehead touches?"

It’s grounding. For both of them, equally. 

A hug is good, a kiss is great but so often leads to other things. Foreheads touching, however, brings them to the here and now where only the two of them exist.

Bitty leans his forehead into Jack’s, and Jack immediately brings his hands up to Bitty’s face. Each one, breathing into the other, the warm air mingling around their cheeks.

And in that instant, all the worries Bitty has are gone.

All the panic Jack was starting to feel dissipates.

Their foreheads, pressing together, joining them in their own private sacred circle. No one else can come in, no one is invited in this precious world where only they two reside.

The terrible practice he had is gone. The worry about tomorrow’s game is gone. The phone call with his father… gone. The scrutiny of the eyes of the media… gone.

It’s all gone with one simple press of the forehead.

“Thank you, sweetpea. I needed this,” Bitty says with a sigh as their noses graze, breaths regulating, becoming even.

“No, thank you. Thank you…” Jack says gripping Bitty’s hand.

Forehead to forehead. 

Heart to heart.

“Thank you.”


	10. Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: Maybe Bitty goes to the Falcs, or Alicia, to get rid of some questionable shirts in Jack's wardrobe... Like a hideously tacky Tourist-Dad™ Hawaiian print? Or the yellow shoes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, @beaniebaneenie I appreciate the prompt. <3 I kinda went another direction with this, but it still has hints of the prompt. Jack is out of town, so Bitty and Alicia take over his closet to give it a makeover. Here’s what goes down…

“I feel kinda sneaky doing this,” Bitty said as he stood by the door of their bedroom.

Alicia quickly got to work as she opened the closet and examined it with the steely accuracy of an assassin ready to put down their target.

“Eric, sweetheart. It’s for his own good. I thought we agreed,” she said as she pulled out a bright orange golf shirt. She held it toward Bitty and said, “Where on god’s green earth did he even get this from?”

“A charity golf thing,” Bitty said taking one step closer as Alicia flung it onto the bed. Apparently, she had three piles: To Donate, To Toss, To Burn to a Crisp. 

Alicia tutted as she rummaged through the clothes on the hangers. “Honestly, you’d think he was contractually obligated to only wear Falconers or Samwell gear.”

Bitty approached the bed and sat on the edge as Alicia continued tossing more clothes onto it. He grabbed a pair of well worn burgundy Adidas track pants that had just been flung.

“Oh, but Jack loves these. They’re broken in _just so_ ,” Bitty said as he held them up to his cheek.

“We can buy him some new ones to break in – ones that don’t have holes in the leg,” she said then pulled out a Hawaiian print button down, and gasped. She held up the offending shirt as if it were a steaming pile of manure and said with a moue, “Eric?”

“Lord!” Bitty smiled.“Coach got that for him. When we went to Kauai with my parents, Jack and Coach thought it would be funny to get matching shirts. Mama and I were so mad at them… and then at dinner—”

“Sweetheart?” Alicia said with a sigh.

“Yes?”

Alicia looked at Bitty and smiled. “Come on, help me put all this back in.”

“What? Why?” Bitty asked.

Alicia walked over and stroked Eric’s cheek. “Because you’re so besotted with my son, you couldn’t care less what he looks like and you don’t want to change him in any way, and I’ll love you forever for that.”

“Aw, come on, Alicia,” Bitty said as he blushed and looked down at the track pants in his lap.

“All right. At least let’s organize the closet so he can find things easier: you know the fancy track pants from the everyday track pants,” Alicia said with a wink.

Bitty nodded and began folding some of the clothes on the bed. He then bit his lip and said, “BUT… if that horrendous orange golf shirt mysteriously disappeared, well there’s nothing I could do about that.”

“Consider it taken care of.”


	11. The Tall and the Blond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Zimbits ficlet for [angryspaceravenclaw](http://archiveofourown.org/users/angryspaceravenclaw/pseuds/angryspaceravenclaw).

Rosa sees them come in for Sunday brunch. Not every Sunday, but frequently enough that she remembers them and they’ve become her favorites. They’re both strikingly handsome; one tall, well-built, with dark hair, and deep blue eyes. The other, shorter, also built, with blond hair, and brown eyes that crinkle adorably at the corners when he smiles. Tall and Blond. Blond laughs often, usually when Tall whispers something in his ear. 

They sit in the waiting area and some people stop to give them a double-take. Tall is apparently _someone_ although Rosa’s not quite sure who and has been too shy to ask any of her coworkers. Tall protectively places his arm around Blond when someone comes up to talk to him. He smiles at them, but his eyes aren’t really in it. He autographs someone’s menu and when they are gone, Tall immediately turns his attention back to his husband. (Rosa noticed their wedding rings right away.) Tall’s eyes light up again when speaking with Blond. 

Blond usually requests a table away from the main windows, and she tries to always seat them in the nook at the back of the restaurant overlooking the river, away from any sidewalks. It’s quieter there, and they seem to like it. She shows them to their table, and watches as Tall pulls out a chair for Blond. She takes a quick glance at how fondly Blond looks at him in return. 

Rosa then makes her way back to her station at the front of the restaurant, greeting people as they come in. Occasionally, she’ll turn around to get a peek at the two. Blond is offering his husband a bite of his breakfast. Tall smiles and nods as Blond spoons it in. 

Their hands are constantly on one another. A light touch here, a gentle caress there. She sees their feet tangled together and grins. And when Rosa seats someone else at a table nearby, the sound of Tall’s laughter, loud and true and bright, fills her heart with simple joy. She smiles and practically skips to the front of the restaurant.

Rosa’s never been much of a romantic or a believer in true love – bad first dates, even worse first kisses, have left her for the most part underwhelmed and frankly, cynical. But with these two men, she sees it. She knows it. It’s real.

She smiles and waves good-bye as they leave the restaurant, hand in hand.


	12. Silence, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100 word drabble from [checkplease100's](checkplease100.tumblr.com) prompt #50: Library

“Someone’s gonna to hear us,” Caitlin laughed. 

“Then stop giggling,” Chowder teased softy.

They kissed, then heard familiar voices from the other side of the shelf.

“Trust me, no one can see. It’s fine!”

“It’s not! We’re practically out in the open, and if you tell me to chill, so help me.”

“You’re cute when you get all worked up like that.”

Caitlin and Chowder heard the sound of a kiss and froze. They peered across the books to find Dex and Nursey there, wide-eyed, suddenly peering back. 

This wasn’t exactly how any of them expected their afternoon to go.


	13. The Thing Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing is, Bitty is cute. But… Bittle is also hot as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally 100000% inspired by [this sketch that I ADORE](https://omgpieplease.tumblr.com/post/155321815522/morning-in-providence-aka-finished-version-of) by [Omgpieplease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SceneryTurnedWicked/pseuds/Omgpieplease).

The thing is, Bitty is cute. There is no question about that. Absolutely none. His turned up little nose, that goddamn cowlick that refuses to go down no matter how much Bitty tries to coax it into submission. His soft lilting voice, the freckles. Oh lord, the freckles. He is _cute_.

But… Bittle is also fucking hot as hell. 

In the mornings, when Jack sleepily wakes just as Bittle climbs out of bed to head to bathroom, Jack’s breath is punched out of him. A naked Bittle is something to see: the definition of his shoulders, his strong arms, the slope of his back, the delightful curve of his backside, and legs for days.

Bittle has no idea the effect he has on Jack as he yawns and makes his way across the room. Because the thing is, Bittle is drop dead gorgeous. Jack smiles as Bitty turns quickly to wink at him, just before he goes inside the bathroom.

**+**

Jack waits in line to order some coffee while Bitty saves a table. The coffee shop line is slow moving, but Jack doesn’t mind. This gives him a chance to watch Bitty who is sitting near a window backlit by the sun, looking amazing. Bitty meanwhile, tap-tap-tapping on his phone, is unaware that the guy sitting next to him is checking him out. 

Jack feels himself drilling his stare into this guy -- this guy who is dragging his eyes up and down Bitty’s body.

The line moves, and Jack steps up one more spot in the queue just as the guy makes a move. He leans against Bitty’s table and bends down to say something. Bitty looks up, appearing surprised. He replies to whatever that interloper is saying. The guy smiles and says something else trying to be as smooth as pie, while Bitty throws a small polite smile, and then looks back down at his phone. The guy looks up, and Jack catches his eye.

Jack can only imagine what his expression must look like, and grins when the guy quickly walks away.

“What was that all about?” Jack asks nonchalantly when he returns with a black coffee, caramel macchiato, and two scones.

“Oh, he just wanted to know the time,” Bitty said reaching for his drink.

Jack smiles and he sits down. “Bits, you’re something else.”

“What?”

“That guy was totally hitting on you, Bits. 100% and you don't even know it.”

“What? That’s crazy talk,” Bitty replies.

“The time? When he had his phone right in his hand. And there’s a huge clock hanging right there?”

“Well now you’re just pulling my leg, Mr. Zimmermann!” Bitty says with a blush, and it just makes Jack’s heart swell.

"Bits, you are stunning -- who wouldn't want to hit on you?"

Jack pulls him in for a hot kiss, right there and there, in front of everyone. People stop and stare, and Jack finally breaks the kiss, leaving Bitty breathless and flushed. 

Jack smugly takes a drink and smiles into his coffee mug.

**+**

They’re sitting in Jack’s living room, plopped on the couch as Bitty sighs and claims that it must be a mistake. They probably meant to get someone else. Tango, maybe? Whiskey?

But Jack tells him -- assures him -- that it is no mistake. They both look at the latest issue of _The Swallow_ announcing Samwell’s 50 Most Beautiful People, and front and center on the cover is one Eric R. Bittle, Captain of the Men’s Hockey Team.

“50 Most Beautiful? I think they’re punking me,” Bitty said dryly.

“You really have no idea, do you?” Jack says putting down the paper.

“About what?” Bitty asks.

“The thing is, Bits, you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met.” 

Bitty stares at Jack, and remains silent.

“You’re gorgeous, Bits.”

Bitty blinks, then his face slowly breaks into one the biggest smiles Jack has ever seen and he suddenly has a lap full of Bittle.

Bitty flings his arms around Jack’s neck and begins plying his lips with kisses.

“You...” (kiss) “...are the sweetest...” (kiss) “...silliest…” (kiss-kiss-kiss) “...boy ever!”

Jack instantly deepens that last kiss, and the two become lost in one another, as the issue of _The Swallow_ falls to the living room floor. 

And the thing is, Jack knows he is the luckiest man alive -- and thanks the powers that be every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked why Jack would kiss him there in the open. Jack is out at this point, obvs.


	14. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100 word drabble from [checkplease100's](checkplease100.tumblr.com) prompt #58: Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Jack runs, everything else disappears; the self-doubt, the anxiety – it’s just him and his feet, greeting the sunrise. His heartbeat pounding in his ears, Jack smiles, and pushes harder, faster, longer. His breath a metronome for his runner’s pace. 

Later when he and George begin to run together, she understands the need, the love of it all. And they realize, they don’t have to do it alone. Stride-by-stride, step-by-step. This friendship they’ve built is a happy surprise to them both. 

They can share a moment, or race in silence, knowing they’re there for one another. 

Running into the sunrise.


	15. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the [checkplease100](checkplease100.tumblr.com) Prompt #100: Celebration. Exactly 100 words.

They turned down all invitations and watched the countdown on the television, content to be at home – _their home_ — on the couch wrapped up, lost in one another’s warmth.

 **Tater** : This party is lit. We are missing you. 

**Jack** : Have a drink for me!

 **Lardo** : It isn’t the same without you.

 **Bitty** : Have fun! xo

Feet intertwined, legs tangled together, Bitty’s head on Jack’s chest – rising and lowering with each breath.

_Seven, six, five…_

“I’d rather be here than anywhere else,” Jack sighed happily.

_Four, three, two…_

“Happy New Year, sweetpea.”

_One…_

They kiss, content in their own private celebration.


	16. Bunny Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the [checkplease100](checkplease100.tumblr.com) Prompt 117: Bunny Hug. Exactly 100 words.

Bun is under the blankets, just out of Bitty’s reach. If he stretches a bit more, he can _almost… reach… him_. There’s such great satisfaction in getting his Bunny Hug, and Bitty’s felt it his entire life. Here he was 21, and still sleeping with his bun – but he doesn’t care. 

He loves it. And Jack loves it too.

_“It’s sweet, eh? When you love someone, you love them forever. Gives me hope you’ll keep me around,” Jack once said._

__

__

_Bitty smiled, “As if I’d ever give you up.”_

Bitty rolls over and gives Jack an enormous bunny hug. Forever


	17. Marceled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fluffy Zimbits ficlet for [AwfullyRuby](https://awfullyruby.tumblr.com). :)

Bitty closed his eyes as Jack slowly rubbed his tummy. It was silly, really. But Suzanne would always rub Bitty’s tummy whenever he felt sick, so now having Jack do it, as they lounged on the couch, was a comfort in so many ways.

“Thanks, honey. I think I’m okay now. That’ll teach me to sample too much raw cookie dough.”

“Can I get you some more water?” Jack asked.

Bitty sat up slowly, “Nah, I think I’m good now.” 

Bitty then climbed into Jack’s lap, who instantly smiled. 

“You reminded me of Marcel just now.”

“Marcel?”

“When I was a kid, we had this cat named Marcel and he would love belly rubs. And after a session of belly rubs, he'd happily climb into your lap."

"Aw!" Bitty replied.

"But as he got older, he became really cranky. Anyway, he’d take to randomly hiss at us. Papa would walk by and Marcel would hiss. So Papa would just pick him up and hug him, and Marcel would stop and begin to purr.”

Bitty looked at Jack. “Is that right?”

“I was a bit scared of him at one point but Papa would say, ‘Just pick him up, son. He wants love, he just doesn’t know it.’”

Bitty smiled.

“So he’d hiss and I’d pick him up, and it would be fine. He just wanted love.”

Jack kissed the top of Bitty’s head, then laughed. 

“What? What’s so funny?” Bitty asked.

“Bits, you _Marceled_ me,” Jack said smirking.

“I did what now?”

“You Marceled me. I was a cranky bastard, and you -- with your sweetness and big heart -- you just came and hugged me.”

Bitty grinned widely and said, “Well, I was scared of you in the beginning. Later, you just got on my nerves.”

Jack laughed, then his expression softened. “And after a while, you just picked me up and gave me love.”

“Well now, if we’re going to be accurate here, you’re the one who made the first move,” Bitty said.

“No. You came into my world and were amazing. You became a great teammate, a friend, and finally one of my best friends. And all you did was give me love,” Jack said as he wrapped his arms around Bitty.

“Oh, honey! You portray this big strong silent type, but lord, you are actually so sweet. It just took me a lick to see it. And once I did, how could I not fall for you and want to give you love?”

Jack blushed hard while Bitty smiled. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Jack’s lips. Jack shivered slightly and sighed -- as content as a cat dozing on a sunny windowsill. He slowly opened his eyes and happily looked at Bitty.

“How about I make you some tea?” Jack asked.

“Sounds perfect,” Bitty replied as he sat back down on the couch, eyes full of love.


	18. Late Night Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the [checkplease100](checkplease100.tumblr.com) Prompt 131: Late Night Calls. Exactly 100 words.

“Hmm…” Bitty said softly into the phone. 

Midnight Pacific time didn’t translate well into Eastern standard.

“I should let you sleep, bud,” Jack said quietly.

“No, ‘mstill here, sweetheart. Miss you…”

“Miss you, too. I’ve gotten used to having your little burrito body asleep next to me,” Jack sighed as he gripped the phone tightly.

“Burrito?” Bitty mused. “It’s more of a cocoon.”

Jack grinned and looked out the hotel window toward the Seattle skyline, as he listened to Bitty’s quiet breathing.

“Night, Bits.”

“Night, love.”

Jack smiled and thought of the boy he adored, asleep three thousand miles away.


	19. You've Got the Universe Reclining In Your Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _At age seven, Jack Zimmermann does not understand romance. Love, he gets. He loves his maman, his papa, chocolate cake, snuggling on the couch with his mémé while she sings to him in French -- so love he gets, sort of. But romance?_ Jack discovers the meaning of romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [Bitty's Valentine](bittysvalentines.tumblr.com) event on Tumblr, and for Gloowel, also known as [jlzsoftie](http://jlzsoftie.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. She wanted a Jack-centered or Zimbits story -- and I was more than happy to oblige.

Jack feels the warmth of the sun stream through the curtains. He stretches languidly and turns over to the little burrito asleep next to him. A tuft of Bitty’s hair peeks out from underneath the pocket of blankets Bitty has burrowed into.

Jack smiles and boops Bitty’s cowlick, and watches it spring back up. He grins as Bitty groans from underneath his cavern of blankets.

“Let me sleep, Jack Zimmermann,” he says groggily--a playful tone underneath the grump.

Jack leans over and kisses the cowlick (one of his most favorite things to do) and whispers to Bitty’s head, “You’ve got the universe reclining in your hair.”

Bitty pokes his head out from under the blankets, eyes still sleepy but his lips burst into the most dazzling of smiles.

**+++**

At age seven, Jack Zimmermann does not understand romance. Love, he gets. He loves his maman, his papa, chocolate cake, snuggling on the couch with his mémé while she sings to him in French -- so love he gets, sort of. But romance? The best he can make is that it’s when you show someone you like them.

He sees papa bring maman flowers, he sees maman hug papa after he loses a game, he sees it in the movies -- oh, the movies. He sees it, but he has no idea what it really is or how to go about it.

So when he gets a crush on Suzette who sits in the fifth seat of the third row in Ms. Olivier’s class, he has no idea what to do.

One night, he is watching _Grease_ on the television with his parents and they sing along to the songs and laugh and eat popcorn. Jack smiles. And toward the end when Sandy says, “Tell me about it, stud,” Jack is intrigued. He’s not quite sure what Sandy says, but he knows her line gets a reaction from Danny and soon they are dancing together and happy.

That Monday in Ms. Olivier’s class, Jack waits all day for Suzette to talk to him. 

“Jack, can I use your eraser?”

He’s ready. He’s prepared. Jack Zimmermann’s time has come.

“Tell me about it, skunk,” he says happily… that is until Suzette frowns at him and calls him a jerk. He blinks at her reaction and shrinks back into his seat.

Jack Zimmermann really does not understand romance.

**+++**

At age 13, Jack Zimmermann has lost all the baby fat and has grown five inches. The girls notice him, and he’s beginning to notice being noticed. He is also beginning to notice the boys. This doesn’t worry him as much as he thinks it would. Still, he is afraid.

He wonders what it’s like to hold hands. To hug. To kiss. After school he sees Charlie Tremblay ride his bike down the block on his way home with his friends. His long legs pedaling, as Jack watches him go. 

He takes note that Charlie’s friends have a light on their helmet. Charlie does not. That day after school, Jack goes to Roy’s Bike Shop and buys a light for Charlie using his money from walking Mrs. Gagnon’s St. Bernard. 

The next morning, Jack leaves the bike light in Charlie’s locker with a note that reads: “To keep you safe.”

Charlie finds the light and the note as Jack watches from the water fountain, pretending to take a drink. Charlie smiles and then tells his buddy Simon that he hopes it’s from Madeline because she has big boobs.

Jack frowns and shakes his head as he walks to his first class.

**+++**

At 21, Jack dates Samantha Lopez for two months. In that time he thinks he might fall in love with her. It would be easy. They meet in their _Literature of WWII_ class and Jack likes her quiet strength and humor when she argues in class. She’s quiet, smart, very tall, pretty, has large green eyes that are always brimming with warmth. She’s not into sports, at all--a departure from his usual type which is actually quite refreshing.

Jack thinks he might be able to fall in love with her. She is kind and never asks for anything in return. They go to the campus movie theater and watch old documentaries together. When they kiss, Jack thinks he might feel it in toes, but he’s not quite sure. They study at Founder’s laughing at history jokes (“Why was WWI so quick?” “Because they were Russian.”), they eat pizza, and sometimes hold hands on the way back to the dorms. 

When they finally sleep together, Samantha is lovely but something feels off. She can feel it; Jack can feel it, too. And as Jack sits on the edge of the bed, slipping his t-shirt back on, Samantha tells him. 

“Jack, you know I think the world of you. You’re nice and smart, and so handsome but I just… I just don’t feel that romantic zing, you know? And shouldn’t it be about romance?” she asks.

Jack nods and says he understands. But he doesn’t. He’ll never understand romance it seems.

**+++**

At 23, Jack Zimmermann meets Eric Bittle. 

The very first thought that crosses his mind is how small he is compared to the rest of the team. He wants to protect him. This confuses Jack and brings out feelings in him that he doesn’t want to claim responsibility for, much less acknowledge. He’ll be a good captain and help him with his checking issue because that is what a good captain does. He does what needs to the done for the benefit of the entire team. 

And that will be the end of that.

“Bittle... I... You... When I play with you... I just wanted to say... Great fucking goal, eh?”

Much to Jack’s surprise, he and Bittle become friends. Good friends.

Jack often sits next to him on the bus during roadies; he walks home with Bittle after Winter Screw; they eat froyo at Samwell Superberry; he carries Bittle home from Spring C; he jumps over snow banks to ask Bittle for coffee; takes photos of Bittle all the time. 

Jack buys Bittle a stove. 

And when his father tells him he misses 100% of the shots he doesn’t take, Jack realizes that he now understands romance. He understands romance in a way he never did before. He understands it because as he runs across the campus with his graduation gown flapping in the wind, as he races up the stairs, as his heart bursts when he sees Bitty teary-eyed standing in Jack’s old room-- he knows it and breathes it. This is it. It’s all he ever wants. He wants to make Bitty feel like the most special person in the entire history of the world. Every single day. Bitty forever and ever.

He rushes forward and takes Bitty into his arms and into his life.

Isn’t it romantic?

**+++**

At 25, Jack Zimmermann is in love. He knows this for a fact. Hockey and Bits are all that matter, and Jack knows that Bittle outranks hockey. And… this doesn’t throw him for a loop. 

He places Bitty’s notes of encouragement on his fridge and touches them gingerly as he walks by the kitchen each morning; he fills the Haus with roses; he makes funny voices for Señor Bun; he buys Bitty the entire line of Ivy Park clothing. 

Jack hears songs on the radio and picks out lines that make him think of Bitty and then recites them to Bitty-- tiny found poems that convey the things Jack feels but doesn’t know how to say.

Jack calls Bitty “bud” and fools everyone into thinking it’s short for buddy. But actually, Jack calls Bitty “bud” because, in his head, it’s short for rosebud because he thinks Bitty is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen–- as perfect as a rosebud. His beautiful, beautiful bud.

And when Jack is running errands with George after one of their runs, they stop at Williams-Sonoma and Jack can’t help but purchase a Le Creuset cast iron pot in Samwell red for Bitty. He also picks up a mortar and pestle for good measure. And some heart-shaped cookie cutters. And some oven mitts with rabbits on them. George smirks as she leaves the store with her one wine opener.

Jack drives the 45 minutes to Samwell, stopping at Annie’s on the way, to spontaneously bring Bitty a caramel macchiato and surprise him at Founder’s while he studies. A quick kiss behind some bookshelves and he’s back to Providence.

He texts Bitty pictures of the horizon during his morning runs and tells him he’s thinking of him; he sends Bitty a roll of his favorite tape in Pride colors; he rubs Bitty’s feet as they sit on the couch watching _Drunk History_. During roadies Jack texts Bitty snapshots of his hotel room with a sad emoji, telling him the bed's too big without him; he folds Bitty's clean clothes early in the mornings, fresh from the dryer, as Bitty sleeps; he makes dinner for Bitty and slow dances with him on the apartment balcony. And when he holds Bitty close, Jack can feel both of their hearts race and all he can do is say, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Every day he wants to continually celebrate Bitty. Jack wants to show Bitty how important he is. And so he does. And if that’s seen as being a romantic, then that’s one label Jack Zimmermann is 100% completely okay with.

Jack watches Bitty curled up in their bed and leans in, wrapping his arms around him as he begins to hum Bitty’s favorite Beyoncé tune, softly into his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is taken from the classic Glam Rock song “[Jeepster](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-G7-yLFmCQ)” by T. Rex, which I figure Jack likes because of his penchant for Dad Rock, and also that line is _fabulous_.
> 
> Other song lyric alluded to in fic is [Bed's Too Big Without You](https://youtu.be/stlKHh_f0-0) by The Police.
> 
> All OMGCP characters belong to Ngozi. <3


	20. Elf, Halfling, Or?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty gets roped into a night of Dungeons and Dragons with Holster, Ransom, Chowder, and Dex. Pre-Zimbits with a teeny hint at awkward flirting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A teeny ficlet for [zim-tits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beansprean/pseuds/zim-tits) who wanted a little D&D pick-me-up. Here’s something OMGCP/D&D-adjacent! <3

“Strength? Check! Dexterity? Check! Intelligence, wisdom, charisma? Check, check and check!” Bitty called out as he haphazardly ticked off the boxes on his character sheet.

“That’s not how it works,” Holster called out in between a handful of pretzels and pushed a set of dice toward Bitty.

The front door slammed, and Chowder ran into the kitchen and sat down at the table, “Am I late?”

“No, Bitty here is still creating his character,” Dex called out with an eyebrow raised. He wore a t-shirt which read _When the DM Smiles, It’s Already Too Late_.

“Skills?” Bitty said as he looked at his sheet. “I call shenanigans since baking is not listed.”

“Boo! Booooo, I say,” Ransom called out. “Can you just follow our instructions, please? So we can get this party started?”

“Lord, you three were the ones who asked me to join your goofy ‘party.’” Bitty said using air quotes. “I was perfectly happy minding my own business in my room.”

“It’s not goofy,” Holster replied. “It’s the fucking coolest and you know it. Okay, so like I already said, first thing’s first, you have to decide what race and class your character is going to be.”

Chowder leaned over and pointed at Bitty’s character sheet, “See? Pick a race, then pick a class, then you can make up their background. That was always my favorite thing to do when I was a kid.”

“I want to be an elf…” Bitty said. “Wait? Do I want to be an elf?”

“You kind of already are,” Jack said with a chuckle as he walked into the kitchen right at that moment.

“Boom!” Ransom said with a laugh, “Though that was kinda harsh, dude.”

Bitty turned to face Jack and glared, “Well now, that’s not very nice!”

Jack, in turn, pinked and stammered, “No, I just meant because you know, your ears–”

“My ears?!” Bitty shot back throwing his hands up. “I thought this was just a jab at my height but now my ears, too, Mr. Zimmermann?”

Jack blushed even harder amongst the growing laughter in the kitchen, “No, I just meant the way they stick out a little, it’s a bit elfin but not in a bad way.”

“See if you ever get another slice of pie in this lifetime,” Bitty said as he looked back down at his character sheet.

“You fucked up now, Jack,” Holster said as everyone else in the kitchen _Oooo’d_ and laughed some more. 

“Halfling? Well, I sure as heck am not going to pick that,” Bitty called out in mock anger.

“I like elves,” Jack muttered as he leaned against the counter and unwrapped a protein bar.

“Why don’t you pull up a chair, Jack?” Ransom asked. “You and Bitty can team up and make a character together.”

Bitty smirked as he pulled out a chair for Jack. “What do you think, Jack? Are we a Bard or a Rogue?”

Jack smiled as he sat next to Bitty, scooted his chair closer and said, “What about a Paladin?”


	21. I Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shitty and Lardo's thoughts on marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [stultiloquentia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stultiloquentia/pseuds/Stultiloquentia) who sent me the following prompts: "W-what are you doing?" and "I need help." I went ahead and used both of them. Here’s a little ShittyLardo for you. <3

“W-what are you doing?”

Lardo froze as she saw Shitty down on one knee in their kitchen. Her expression was wild-eyed horror.

“I hurt my back, Lards! I need help, not that look,” Shitty gasped as he waved at her with one hand. “That’s why I called you, you damn little muffin head.”

Lardo exhaled sharply, still cemented in place.

“So now that you know I’m not asking for your goddamn hand in holy matrimony, can you help me up for fuck’s sake‽” Shitty cried out in pain.

“Oh, shit!” Lardo said as she snapped out of it. “Dude, I’m sorry.”

She scrambled over to Shitty and offered her hand. He groaned as he rose and leaned on her.

“Bed or couch?” Lardo asked.

“Couch—it’s closer,” Shitty said as they huffed toward the living room.

Once she had him supine on the couch, she knelt next to him and brushed the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Better?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Shitty replied, eyes closed, arm thrown over his forehead.

“What happened?”

“Well, remember how I said I’ve been feeling that wonky twinge on my lower back since I played soccer the other day? This morning, it felt extra throbby and I bent down to pet Ruth and then bam! I think I threw my back out,” he said as he turned to look at her.

“I told you, you couldn’t keep up with those damn twenty-something-year-olds,” she said with a small laugh.

“One, I’m only 37—I’m not fucking ancient, Lards. You wound me. The kids in my class see me as their young and hip professor. And two,” Shitty said as he moved his arm away from his forehead and softened his voice, “what just happened with you? What was that all about?”

“Oh…” Lardo said and felt herself blush. She hated when that happened.

“Is marrying me that scary a thought?”

“What? No… it’s just…” Lardo helplessly shrugged.

Shitty smiled. “Lards, I know how you feel about marriage, and you know how I feel about marriage.”

“I know but sometimes I wonder if maybe it’s what you want—and don’t even know it,” she said and sat all the way down on their living room floor. 

Their beagle, Ruth, trotted over toward them. Lardo continued, “And one day you’ll realize you want to get married.”

“I don’t. I won’t,” Shitty replied. “But, if my feelings on the subject were ever to change, I would sit down and talk to you about it. I would never pop the question out of nowhere. That would be a total bullshit move.”

Lardo looked at Shitty and studied his face. She knew he respected and loved her too much not to be honest. It was one of the things she cherished most about their relationship. 

They had had their ups and downs, had even broken up and been apart for several months. Eventually, they made their way back to one another. And in all that time, she knew no one would be as honest and true with her as Shitty. No one would know her as well as Shitty. He was her partner in crime and in life.

“We’ve been together for over ten years and in my book, that’s worth more than most marriages. I mean, Jesus, my father’s been married what? Three times?” 

“Does that fourth one count?” Lardo asked.

“Nah, remember it was annulled. Anyway, listen toots, no one is ever going to love you more than I do, and I know you feel the same way about me. So, that’s all we need, okay?”

“Okay,” Lardo said with a smile and leaned in to kiss Shitty. He tickled her lips with his mustache. She laughed. “Now, don’t go getting all fucking mushy on me. Gross.” 

Shitty pulled back, and his expression became rather grave. “I lied though,” he said.

Lardo stiffened.

“There is one thing I really need.”

“What?”

“Some whiskey. Or a bowl. Jesus, just something for the pain,” he called out in mock anguish.

“You ass,” she said as she rose and made her way to the kitchen.

“Thank you, babe!” Shitty yelled out. “Love you!’

“Shut up, Bertrand,” Lardo replied loudly. She smiled and sighed happily.


	22. Why Are You So Annoying?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, [Teluete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teluete)! Thanks for the prompt, lady! I wrote you a little Holsom ficlet, which I’ve never written before. Here they are being soft and dorky in Boston. <3

The creaky old washer danced back and forth as Ransom rocked on his heels waiting for the last eternal moments of the spin cycle to finally peter out.

When the washer beeped at last, Ransom hurried over. He wanted to have his laundry done as soon as possible, so he could order his pizza and settle down with Netflix and a beer at precisely 7:00 p.m.

One of the prerequisites that Holster and Ransom both insisted on when apartment hunting was that a washer and dryer be on the premises. The four years of easy laundry access at the Haus had spoiled them both, and there was no way they wanted to haul their laundry to the local wash and fluff.

While their new apartment in Boston wasn’t exactly all they dreamed of, it was near public transportation and a Dunkin’ Donuts was just around the corner. The washer and dryer, although dilapidated as all get out, sealed the apartment deal.

Ransom began to pull out the wet clothes when he noticed several pairs of tighty whitey, and not so whitey, underwear in the bundle.

Ransom sighed, as he counted six–no, seven–pairs of Holster’s underwear. He pulled them out and shoved all the clothes in an available dryer. Holster knew how Ransom felt about other people’s underwear. Call it a quirk, okay, but it was his quirk and he stood by it, damn it. Nobody else’s underwear could be washed with his. Period. Full stop. End of story.

About twenty minutes later, he heard some footsteps behind him as he sat on the counter, swinging his long legs. He turned and saw Holster walking toward him with a huge smile on his face.

“I’m back! And, I got the beer,” Holster said as he approached.

“Why are you so annoying?” Ransom asked.

“Hello to you too, bro.”

“Why are you so annoying?” Ransom asked again, as Holster smiled and nodded.

“You say annoying, I say potato.”

“No, I really mean annoying. Dude, I hate when you sneak your underwear in the wash with mine.”

Holster’s smile grew even wider, “What, you still don’t like your unmentionables dancing around in the wash with my unmentionables? We share everything else, what’s the big deal, bro?”

Ransom jumped off the counter with the basket under his arm as the dryer beeped. He pulled out the hot, soft clothes and dumped them onto the counter and aggressively began to fold.

“The big deal is then I have to fold all your shit.” Ransom frowned as he folded a pair of Holster’s bright red underwear and handed them over.

“Nuh-uh. There is no shit. You just washed it out. Boom!” Holster called out and held up a hand for a high five.

“Gross, bro,” Ransom said.

“Don’t leave me hanging,” Holster said, hand still up.

Ransom and Holster held their visual standoff a few moments longer and then Ransom laughed in spite of himself.

“You’re lucky I love you or whatever,” Ransom said, “but in the words of Meatloaf, I’ll do anything for love but I won’t do that.”

Holster took his underwear and slapped them on his head like a beret. He then leaned in to smack a loud kiss on Ransom’s lips. Ransom smiled against Holster’s lips and pressed a kiss in return.

“How can you possibly resist this?” Holster asked as he wagged his eyebrows; the underwear flopped over his eye.

Ransom laughed again as he put the rest of the clothes back into the basket.

“Come on, you can help fold upstairs.”

“Can we get pineapple on the entire pizza this time?” Holster asked, underwear still on his head.

“No… Maybe.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“‘Chyeah, you will.”

The two laughed as they approached the elevator, and elbowed one another the entire time.


	23. In the Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small Ranskov fic based on [this image](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/174823695232) of a sleepy, shirtless Tater. Tater, where is your shirt?! Takes place immediately after the final game, and the morning after the party.

Ransom opened one eye, and the world appeared lopsided. He had a crick in his neck the size of Niagara Falls. Wait… where was he? Why was he out on Jack’s balcony? He slowly opened the other eye and lifted his head which was on someone’s shoulder–and in that instant, it all came back. 

With a loud gasp, Ransom quickly turned and saw one Alexei Mashkov, shirtless ( _SHIRTLESS!_ ) and asleep, leaning against the sliding glass door. 

Ransom quickly assessed the situation. In front of him was the Providence skyline bathed in the morning light. Behind him, a battlefield of partygoers zonked out, and yep… to the right of him was one shirtless, sleeping Tater. And Tater’s left hand sat on top of Ranson’s thigh.

“Holy shit,” Ransom whispered as he stared intently at it. Tater’s fingers twitched slightly while he slept.

Ransom closed his eyes and began to count backward ten to one. By the time he reached four, he recalled piling into Shitty’s car after the game, cackling with Snowy and Poots in the backseat as they laughed at one of Holster’s terrible jokes, and making his way to Jack’s. 

When they all poured into Jack’s apartment, he smiled as Bitty jumped into Jack’s arms, and Guy waltzed in with a couple cases of champagne as Lardo cheered. After that, the evening was a blur of toasts, pizza, and _shit_ , even more toasts.

Ransom remembered feeling happy and at ease as he danced with Holster, carried Lardo on his shoulders, hugged Jack, and let himself be carried away by the general merriment of the evening. Still, the one person he avoided was Tater. Each time he’d look in Tater’s general direction, however, he’d catch Tater looking right back at him… and smiling.

They’d chatted before. A few weeks ago, in fact, they had talked for a quite a bit at Jack’s while watching a game. Ransom felt brave enough to approach Tater as he had Holster as a buffer there at his side. 

Tater and Ransom talked about their mutual love of strawberry shortcake and hung out most of that afternoon. Even as Ransom practically perspired through his t-shirt that day, it was easy with Holster acting as an ersatz chaperone. But now, on his own, he was too afraid to approach Tater.

Ransom was in the kitchen helping himself to some pie–or rather, hiding— trying his best to ignore the hysterical laughing screams (something about a giant duck), when he heard a voice behind him.

“Am I saying something to make you upset?”

Ransom jumped and screeched as he turned. His slice of blueberry pie landed on Tater’s chest.

“Oh… shit,” Ransom said as the pie tumbled down in slow motion.

“ _Vot derʹmó_ ,” Tater muttered and watched the pie land on the floor with an obscene plop, right next to his boot.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Ransom said as he frantically wiped at the smear of pie across Tater’s championship tee.

Tater gingerly took Ransom by the wrists, “Okay, it is okay.”

Ransom froze. “I’m sorry. I’m such a dumbass.”

“It’s okay, Randy. See?” And in one swift move, Tater pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it off the side. “Now it’s no problem.” 

Ransom’s mouth fell open. “Uh…”

Just then Chowder and Snowy approached, laughing and hanging all over another. Snowy, inexplicably, was also shirtless.

He laughed and pointed at Tater. “It’s the theme of the evening!” Snowy yelled. He grabbed some more pie from the fridge and exited the kitchen with Chowder. 

Ransom heard Snowy yell, “Shirts off, everyone!”

Tater laughed and shook his head. “Snowy is copycat.” 

Ransom grinned and felt his shoulders drop as Tater said, “You want some more pie?”

**+++**

The Providence skyline seemed clearer somehow that particular morning. Ransom smiled as he recalled the long conversation with (a still shirtless) Tater in the kitchen, the way they goofily danced in the living room, the glasses of champagne they both shared, and when everyone began to pass out from either too much champagne or sheer exhaustion, they both made it to the balcony–the only place that was uninhabited. 

They talked and laughed for a few more hours as the ruckus from the party began to die down. Ransom learned about Tater’s childhood in Russia, all about Tater’s brief stint as a figure skater (“I was eight and won skating contest. My mom was proud. My dad said, ‘More hockey!’ but I skate for two more years.”) Ransom shared the incredible amount of pressure he felt from his parents to be something he didn’t want to be. Tater assured him that following his heart was hard to do, but also the best thing. 

Ransom realized he felt at ease. Gone was this unattainable sports god he had put on a pedestal. Now, in his place was a genuinely sweet, nice guy who was funny and incredibly easy to talk to. He understood parental pressure, he understood going against the grain, and Ransom appreciated that more than he could say.

Ransom remembered placing his head on Tater’s shoulder and feeling his eyes begin to close, and close and close…

At 7:15, Tater’s phone rang. Tater jerked awake, blinked a few times and stretched. Ransom watched him quietly as he rubbed his eyes. He looked at Ransom with sleep-heavy eyes and smiled.

“Good morning.” 

“Morning. Uh… are you gonna get that?”

Tater nodded and yawned as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“George? Yeah, yeah, I’m with him. Presser? No, we didn’t forget. Okay, sure, boss. I’ll tell him. See you.”

“What’s going on?”

“George was worried she couldn’t find Zimbonni. We have a presser this morning.”

Ransom stood up and reached out a hand toward Tater, “Here, let me help you up.”

“Thanks, Randy.” 

“You can call me Justin,” Ransom said with a smile.

“Ah, okay, Justin. Thanks for company. I… I like talking with you.”

“I like talking to you, too,” Ransom said still holding Tater’s hand. Tater looked down at their hands and rubbed a small circle onto Ranson’s skin with his thumb. The two smiled shyly at one another.

“So, maybe after presser, you want to go to get breakfast?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah, I like breakfast. Let’s do that.”

Tater yawned again. “Oh, sorry! Guess I’m still tired. Still, it’s good to be up and talking with someone you like.”

Ransom beamed. 

“Come on, let’s go wake up Zimmboni and B,” Tater said as he squeezed Ransom’s hand.

Ransom held on tightly and slid the balcony door open. “And maybe we can find you a shirt, too?”

Tater laughed. “Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! I have Ransom and Holster so intertwined in my mind, I just had Ransom refer to himself as ADAM in this and didn't notice. Hahahha! Lord.


	24. Goon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack makes a friend during a morning run... a small, furry friend.

It all came to be during one of Jack’s morning runs. He stopped at a red light, running in place when he heard it; it was the slightest of sounds. A mew more than a meow. He followed the sound and discovered the source. A kitten, skinny and dirty hid under a bush just off the sidewalk. Jack looked around and wondered if a worried owner might be nearby.

Jack lowered onto his haunches slowly and the two momentarily locked eyes. The kitten’s ears flattened and it reversed clumsily further back into the bush. 

Jack frowned, “It’s all right. I won’t hurt you.”

The kitten disappeared altogether. Jack paused for a moment. He rose and crossed the street to continue his run.

The next morning, Jack stopped at the same intersection and waited for the light, yet again. He looked toward the bush and sure enough, the kitten poked its head out.

“Still there, eh?” Jack called out softly. The kitten stared at Jack with owlish eyes and blinked languidly. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a protein bar. He opened it, tore off a tiny chunk and lowered again to meet the kitten face to face. 

“Here. This is probably bad for you, but a little nibble won’t hurt. It’s bison,” Jack said.

The kitten darted back into the bush, and Jack stood up. He walked away carefully and watched as the little thing reappeared to sniff at the morsel left behind. She gingerly ate it as she looked up at him. Something about her implicit trust in Jack tugged at his heart. She was all alone, and Jack felt he had to do something about it. He smiled and ran back home.

“Bits,” Jack called out as he unlocked the front door.

“Hmm?” Bitty replied from the kitchen. The coffee grinder began to whirl. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re back quick.” 

Bitty smiled as Jack planted a kiss on his cheek. 

“I, uh, made a friend?” Jack said and laughed shyly.

“You’re not sure?” Bitty asked.

“No, uh. Come with me,” Jack answered and held out his hand. 

“Where?”

“Just… just come with me,” Jack said and pulled Bitty toward the door.

“But I’m still in my P.J.s,” Bitty called out and quickly shoved his feet into his slides.

“You look gorgeous,” Jack said with a smile. “Come on.”

The two made their way two blocks down from their apartment, just as it began to drizzle. 

“Honey, what’s going on?” Bitty asked and then stopped dead in his tracks as Jack pointed toward the bush. “Oh.”

“I first saw her yesterday, Bits. I think she’s a stray,” Jack said. The kitten looked at them both and gave out a tiny hiss. It was a sad attempt that made Jack grin.

“Well, aren't you quite the goon?” Bitty said as he got down on all fours to get a closer look. “Aw, poor little thing. So skinny and scrawny.”

“Should we… bring her back with us?” Jack asked as it began to rain in earnest.

“Bring her back with us?” Bitty replied. “You want to keep her--or him? It?”

“Look at her, Bits,” Jack said simply. 

Bitty frowned then looked at Jack who looked at the kitten. He exhaled loudly and said, “I can tell when I’ve been outvoted. Come on, Miss Thing--or Mister.”

Bitty slowly held out his hand, and the kitten took a tiny swipe at him and sniffed at his fingers. Jack knelt next to them, and the kitten happily wobbled over to Jack.

“I see how it is,” Bitty said. “Let’s go home, you two.”

Jack carefully picked up the kitten and took a quick peek then put her close to his chest and zipped up his hoodie. “Definitely a she. I was right!”

Bitty smiled and patted Jack’s shoulder. “Hurry or all three of us will get soaked.”

Once they established the kitten was indeed chipless and without an owner, Jack and Bitty let themselves become attached to her. The vet said she was about four months old and other than malnourished, she was healthy. The kitten was a chirrupy tortie who loved climbing curtains, sticking her head in Jack’s gym shoes, and splashing water which dripped from the tub faucet. Jack would take pictures of her while she’d sit on the window ledge and watch Bitty cook. She adored climbing into Jack and Bitty’s bed each night to sleep on top of Jack’s head. She’d wake them up each morning by swatting at their noses.

“You are such a goon,” Bitty would laugh sleepily. And the name stuck--it had since the very beginning, really.

They laughed when they discovered that a Falconers infant onesie was the perfect size for Goon. Bitty cut the end off and slipped it on Goon’s less than accommodating body. Jack would roll pucks at Goon, and she’d pounce on them making Jack call her the best goalie in town. 

“Snowy's got nothing on you!" He would cheer.

Often times, Jack would come home from a particularly long roadie and Bitty and Goon would be snuggled on the couch together watching television--both excited to have Jack back at home, both offering affection in their own way. And it was good, and the two found themselves in love with their little cat more than they ever thought possible.

So it was that Jack and Bitty added a third member to their small Providence crew. And by allowing this tiny, goony, menace into their small, intimate world, it grew exponentially.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the [Parenthood, Please](https://archiveofourown.org/series/630467) universe/timeline--before they have kids.


	25. Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say when you assume. Jack’s assumptions and expectations are laid out, and Bitty is caught off guard.

Jack and Bitty sat at the kitchen table and played footsie while Jack balanced his checkbook and Bitty sighed loudly as he filled out some paperwork.

“How’s it going?” Jack asked with a smirk as Bitty’s toes crawled up his calf.

“It’s fine… just stressful as hell.”

“Sorry, bud,” Jack said in camaraderie.

“I’m officially off my parents’ health insurance next month, and I have to decide between the Samwell HMO or PPO and I’m not sure which to pick, so I’m filling out the application for both… and nevermind how expensive it is,” Bitty said as his voice picked up a hint of panic at the end.

“Want some more coffee?” Jack asked.

“Sure, thanks, honey.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that once we’re married,” Jack said calmly. “You want the vanilla creamer or pumpkin spice?”

Bitty stared at Jack with eyes wide open and dropped his pen. It rolled off the table and halfway across the room.

“What? You want regular half and half?” Jack asked looking in the fridge.

Bitty willed his voice to work. “Pumpkin,” he squeaked out.

Jack nodded, pulled it out of the fridge. He poured more coffee into their mugs and gave Bitty’s a generous splash of creamer. He picked up both mugs in one hand, the creamer in the other, put it back into the fridge and closed it with a quick bump of his hip.

He returned to the table, put the mugs down, got in his chair and began to work on his checkbook again. Jack took a sip of coffee and paused when he noticed Bitty’s eye bore into him.

“What?” Jack asked as he touched his face and wondered if there was something on it.

“You… want to get married?” Bitty asked in a whisper. “To me?”

Jack furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

“You--you said I wouldn’t have to worry about it once we’re married.”

“Oh.” Jack looked at Bitty, then shrugged. “I mean, yeah… of course, I do. Isn’t that what we’re doing? Isn’t that the plan all along?”

“Is it?”

Jack studied Bitty’s face then frowned. “Do you not want to marry me?”

“What?” Bitty asked.

“You don’t want to get married? To me?”

“Jack…” Bitty replied breathlessly.

Jack began to shake, and wring his hands. He jumped up from his seat and quickly walked to the kitchen.

Bitty raced over to him and took Jack by the hands.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to marry me, Bits… Bittle. I don’t know why I thought… You’re you and... I can’t expect you to---”

“You just stop it right there, you silly boy,” Bitty said as he squeezed Jack’s hand. 

Jack locked his tear-rimmed eyes with Bitty’s.

“Jack, I love you more than I ever thought I could ever love anyone,” Bitty said as he reached up to cupped Jack’s face. “And there are some days I can’t believe you want to be with me. So you can imagine my shock that you actually want to marry me. Me?”

“Bitty… why wouldn’t I want to marry you? There’s no one better than you. And I never want us to be apart.”

Bitty smiled and jumped up to throw his arms around Jack, as Jack caught him in his arms. They kissed tenderly and Jack smiled against Bitty’s lips.

“This boy,” Bitty muttered. He dotted Jack’s face with several tiny kisses.

“So, I guess we’re getting married, eh?” Jack said with a blushy grin.

“Guess so,” Bitty replied. “I do have my health insurance to think about."

"Haha."

"And I might want a ring.”

“Wait, why don’t I get the ring?” Jack asked.

“Well, you made it sound like you were the one that was gonna do the proposing. Emerald's my birthstone, by the way.”

Jack laughed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, bud. Our coffee’s getting cold.”

Bitty jumped down and took Jack by the hand as he pulled him toward the couch with a smile.

“I think the coffee can wait.”


	26. Butter My Biscuits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's latest crush is... _unexpected_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ficlet for [Devereauxs_Disease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devereauxs_disease) who came across [The Topless Baker](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCOvPpNDsz_ePFOTKhmDaDnQ) and submitted a prompt. _Bitty's baking videos are the same, but he's not wearing a shirt. [He's] Jack's new favorite YouTuber._

_“Welcome to Butter My Biscuits! I’m Eric, and today I’m going to be talking to you all about buttercreams. Sweet, fluffy buttercreams. Is there anything better?”_

Jack was sprawled on his bed with his laptop precariously perched on his chest. His chin was pressed down into his neck as a huge yawn escaped. 

_”We’ll go over the four main types of buttercreams. You got American, Swiss, Italian and French. My Moo Maw's favorite is French. So we can start with that one. Ooh la la! Let’s get started, y'all!"_

He watched the blond baker on the screen as a sleepy smile spread across Jack’s lips. He’d been watching _Butter My Biscuits_ all summer. Jack couldn’t recall exactly how he stumbled upon the quirky baking videos but soon Eric, with his sweet face, became one of Jack’s favorite YouTubers. 

Of course, there was the fact that Eric wore nothing but an apron to film his videos but Jack wasn’t going to own up to that… out loud, anyway. So if he found Eric’s voice soothing and his videos calmed Jack in a way nothing else did, he wasn’t going to begrudge Eric’s round, firm deltoids; his strong, solid biceps; his sharp traps, his… well, Jack just really enjoyed the videos, okay?

_“At its most basic elements, buttercream is a combination of a fat, like butter for instance, and sugar…”_

Jack smiled as Eric began to whip some sugar and butter together and expounded on the virtues of real vanilla versus imitation. Sure, Eric was on the young side, Jack figured he was about 19 or so, but there was no harm in watching a beautiful man bake some beautiful goodies while shirtless. That was his schtick, and if Jack had a crush on Eric, well that was nobody’s business but his and his laptop’s.

Jack had a big day tomorrow. He'd like to be at security by 7:00 a.m., which meant he had to wake up his parents by 5:30—something he was not looking forward to. Alicia and Bob were not early risers, and the drive to the airport would be a long one. Jack was all packed and ready to go… and so, he fell asleep in his childhood bedroom, in Montreal, to the sounds of a soft Southern lilt. 

**+++**

“Jacko, the frogs are ready for you, brah. They’re all sitting in the sin bin waiting to meet _El Capitan_.”

Jack laughed as he looked up and saw Shitty wearing his helmet, a pair of Samwell shorts and nothing else.

“Knight, please don’t scare the newbies on their first team meeting,” Coach Hall said as he looked at Shitty over his glasses.

“It’s fine, Coach H. They can handle it. No one’s frazzled in the slightest. One little dude even brought a pie.”

“We’ll finish up later, Jack. Go on with Knight before more of his clothes start to disappear.”

Jack smirked as they walked out of Coach Hall’s office.

“Jeez, Shits. It’s nice of you to get dressed up for the occasion.”

“What? Those little fuckers met me already at the Haus tour. The bloom is off the rose,” Shitty said as he and Jack made their way to the ice. 

“Yeah, sorry I had to miss that by the way,” Jack said.

“No you’re not, but I appreciate the bullshit,” Shitty said as he clapped Jack’s shoulder. 

They approached the sin bin and Shitty called out, “All right, now listen up you magnificent fuckers! Line up so you can meet the greatest Canadian export since Moosehead IPA.”

Jack approached the frogs, and wondered what he was going to have to work with this year. Each one stood up and called out their name: _Wicks_ , _Henderson_ , _O'Meara_ , _Rodriguez_ , _Bittle_ —

Jack felt his stomach drop to his shoes as he took in the familiar face before him, the arms he could still make out that were currently covered by a long-sleeved plaid shirt, the sweet smile. _Osti de tabarnak de câlice_. Well, this year was going to be something else. 

“Welcome to Samwell Men's Hockey,” he said to the group, avoiding Eric’s face as he quickly walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incidentally, this is my [second](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/post/159639808229/bitty-makes-a-pie) Topless Baker-inspired Zimbits fic.


	27. Butter My Biscuits, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two of Butter My Biscuits. What happened next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A follow-up ficlet for [Devereauxs_Disease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devereauxs_disease) who submitted another prompt. _You could totally skip ahead to Bitty at Jack's place and he asks to borrow his computer to turn in a paper he forgot about and he sees a favorites folder labeled Biscuits..._

It occurred to Bitty at exactly 7:45 p.m. on that Sunday evening that he never actually submitted his paper “The Effects of Food Deserts in the Urban Landscape and Childhood Nutrition” and it was due the following morning. He would have remembered sooner, had he not been _busy_ being plied with kisses by Jack and other, ahem, things--but luckily he remembered.

“Sweetheart,” Bitty asked as he pressed a tiny kiss onto Jack’s neck. “Can I borrow your laptop? I have to submit a paper.”

“Bitty,” Jack said in a warning voice.

“No, it’s done, I promise. I just have to email it to my professor.”

“Okay,” Jack said with a smile, “I thought I was going to have to reprimand you.”

“Ew,” Bitty said with a smirk. “Don’t get all daddy on me.”

Jack rolled them both over on the bed and began to tickle Bitty who squealed in delight.

“Go on and finish your homework, Bittle,” Jack said as he playfully smacked Bitty’s ass.

“Don’t you sass me, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty retorted as he got out of bed and bent down to pick up his underwear from the floor.

“I think it’s still sitting on the coffee table in the living room,” Jack said with a yawn.

“Roger that,” Bitty replied as he pulled on Jack’s old Samwell t-shirt.

Bitty reached for the laptop, plopped himself down on the couch, and opened Jack’s laptop.

“S-e-n-o-r-l-a-p-i-n-1-5-!,” Bitty said he entered Jack’s password on the laptop. Soon Bitty was looking at Jack’s desktop which was a photo a Faber. Bitty frowned when he saw how many files Jack had cluttering his desktop. 

“How can this boy find anything?” Bitty muttered. “Hey, for as fastidious as you are everywhere else, your laptop is a hot mess, honey.”

“Oh well,” Jack called out from the bedroom. 

“Can I straighten it up for you?” Bitty called back.

Jack laughed, “Anything to procrastinate, eh, Bits?”

“You hush,” Bitty yelled out and then dove in. Jack had documents all over the place, pictures spread across several unnamed folders. It took Bitty about 20 minutes to clean it up and then he opened Jack’s browser. His bookmarks were also a disaster. Bitty created a bookmarks folder and noticed there was a folder of bookmarks named _Biscuit Videos_.

“Is this boy trying to make biscuits?” Bitty said with a laugh. He clicked on the folder and gasped. 

**Fall, 2013**

“I know that being a beautiful aloof hardass if kind of your deal, brah--your trademark, if you will--but you need to ease up on Bitty.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said as he pushed his coffee mug away.

“Just cut the kid some slack. He’s trying! He really is and you, as our brilliant and commanding captain, should help him along instead of bitching and moaning.”

Jack looked at him and shrugged.

Shitty shook his head, threw back the last dregs of his cappuccino and got up from the table. “I’m off like a dirty shirt. Be nice to Bitty or else, Jack. See you back at the haus, brah.”

Jack watched Shitty exit and smiled as Shitty offered him a hearty middle finger from the other side of the large Annie’s window. Jack laughed and waved, then let out a whoosh of air. 

Shitty was right. Eric-- _Bittle_ was trying and the least Jack could do was pull on his big boy pants and step up as Captain. He’d have to push out thoughts of Bittle baking in nothing but an apron, for fuck’s sake, and help him with his checking issue.

He pulled out his phone and typed out a message.

_Bittle. Faber tomorrow. 4:30 a.m. checking clinic. This is NOT optional. I’ll call you at 4 to wake you up._

He’d help Bittle even if it killed him. He’d just have to keep his distance and act the role of the captain. Nothing more, nothing less, and he’d have to forget about whatever nonsensical feelings he had about Eric the Shirtless Baker and focus on Bittle the Forward. End of story.

**+++**

“So you see, I liked you before I even met you,” Jack said sheepishly. “You can imagine my surprise when you showed up at Faber for that first team skate.”

Bitty looked at him and frowned. “You are such a ding dong! And if I weren’t so in love with you, I’d be furious. We could have been together right from the get-go.”

“I’m sorry, Bits,” Jack said as he buried his face in Bitty’s chest. The two cuddled in bed and had been talking for the last hour.

“Sorry I found out?” 

“No, sorry I kept it this long. After a while, it was hard to bring it up, you know? What was I going to say, ‘Oh, Bits. I know we’ve been dating for over a year, but I’d like to bring something up.’? I felt stupid.”

“It's okay, I think it was meant to happen the way it happened," Bitty replied. He then paused and said, "So all those times you were extra mean to me?”

“I probably really wanted to kiss you, and had to stop myself--or distract myself from how perfect you were.”

“Ha! Hardly,” Bitty said and kissed Jack sweetly.

“It’s true! After a while, you stopped being Eric the YouTuber and just became Bitty. Then, you became my Bits--who is a million times more amazing than a half-naked baker,” Jack said. “I love you.” 

“Good, because by amazing coincidence, I love you, too,” Bitty said as he dipped down for another kiss. Then Bitty snorted. “But don’t think for one second that I forgot you asked me to bake you some cookies in nothing but my shorts the other day. Old habits die hard, apparently!”

Jack’s eyes wide opened wide as he blushed and covered his face with a pillow. He then began to laugh as Bitty flipped them both over and playfully punched him on the arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and to the point. ;)


	28. Top Ten Rejected Jack Zimmermann Wedding Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what the title says...

1\. _Bittle, you made me realize food was more than just a source of energy. It’s a source of love._  
2\. _Bud, this ring is worth more to me than my two Cup rings._  
3\. _Bits, you’re the peanut butter to my jelly in this sandwich of life._  
4\. _The music you brought into my heart is better than any Beyoncé song._  
5\. _You’re my Señor Bun, and I never want to sleep apart._  
6\. _You saw beyond the hockey robot, and rebooted my heart. And life without you, does not compute._  
7\. _Being married to you will be a constant celly._  
8\. _Life will be better when we stick together._  
9\. _I scored big the day I met you. You came and swept me off my feet._  
10\. _Bitty, being with you... it's like with hockey. Or I realized you meant a lot to me and I knew you were the one. I love you._

“You gonna keep that last one though, right?” Shitty asked as he looked at Jack’s list.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, he still totally uses all of these, right? And there's not a dry eye in the house.


	29. The Dip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don't talk about the dip. They just eat it, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever written, but it's making me crack up and I love it. Jack is a mess, Bitty is dramatic, Shitty is confused. Years down the line, Jack and Bitty still have hard [feelings over this](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/75898957599).

Jack and Bitty sat and ate in silence.

This was the agreement.

Bitty would make the dip, and they would eat and not say a word. 

Jack took a potato chip and scooped up a big dollop. He then plopped it all in his mouth. A bit dribbled out at the last second, which he quickly caught it with the heel of his hand and promptly licked. An involuntary, “Mmm,” came out of Jack as he did. 

He wiped his hand on his sweatpants.

Then Jack couldn’t help himself and spoke softly, “Why is it _so_ good, Bits?”

“We don’t question the dip,” Bitty answered plainly, “we just eat the dip.”

“Agreed.” 

Bitty took a chip and helped himself to a hearty dip-ful. The crunching in the room was the only noise to be heard; that was until Shitty walked in. 

“What are you eating?”

Bitty and Jack both answered, “Nothing!”

Shitty ambled over to the coffee table. He took a whiff and a chip, then helped himself. 

“Oh em gee! It’s your pecan ranch dip!” Shitty exclaimed joyfully.

Jack’s eyes grew wide when Shitty began to dance as Bitty began to frown.

“Why are you two being so fucking weird?” Shitty asked as he helped himself to some more. Jack and Bitty remained silent, and then Shitty began to laugh. 

“Is this because of how you both pronounce pecan?!”

Jack was about to put a chip in his mouth, when Bitty angrily got up, ripped the chip out of Jack's hand. He grabbed the dip, marched over to the kitchen and tossed it in the trash, container and all. The bedroom door slammed.

Shitty looked at Jack, who sat with a schmear of dip on his upper lip. 

“Nice going, Shits!” Jack yelled out as he got up from the couch, his sweatpants greased-stained and droopy. He tripped on the runner on the way to the bedroom.

“Bits, open up,” Jack called from the hallway.

"I don't even know if I can even make the buffalo dip now!" Bitty cried out from inside.

Shitty stood there confused, and said, "Thanks for inviting me over, brahs. This is SUPER fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire thing was brought on by a conversation I had with [Devereauxs_Disease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/) about _A Star is Born_ where one of the characters is a pecan ranch farmer. I then said pecan ranch was the least popular Dorito flavor ever. That evolved into this. 
> 
> The image of a slovenly Jack with a smear of dip on his upper lip will forever make me cackle.


End file.
